


Next Stop, Christmas

by SaraJaye



Category: South Park
Genre: Bittersweet, Christmas, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Memories, Pre-Slash, References to racist talking poo, Stan's parents are The Worst, Train Stations, Travel, Tv Dinners, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: Stan and Kyle spend the holidays on the run, in a train station.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: fandomtrees





	Next Stop, Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatScottishShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/gifts).



> A companion/prequel to "Cupcakes, Snowmen, and Safe Spaces". This is during Stan and Kyle's incredible journey to Canada. Pre-pandemic.

When they were eight years old, all Kyle had to do was call upon Mr. Hankey whenever things started to suck around Christmastime and everything would be okay again. But Mr. Hankey had become a racist piece of shit (literally), and Kyle had reached a point where even his cherished childhood memories couldn't keep him defending the bastard. Besides, he was thirteen now, too old to believe in magical talking Christmas poo.

(Maybe he wouldn't feel that way if Chef was still here. Somehow that was worse, it was one thing to cut ties with a toxic piece of shit but Chef had been viciously killed before they could try again to bring him back to their side.)

No sense in begging Santa for help, either. Santa existed, sure, but he was done with South Park and that probably meant anyone _from_ there even if right now, Kyle, Stan, Ike, and Sparky were doing their damndest to get away from that place.

_How long's it been, anyway?_ Probably since last summer, when it became clear South Park wasn't going to stop being _stupid_ about everything under the sun and Stan's shitty father kept trying to push his damn merchandise. Kyle had never had anything against pot before, other than Towelie being useless when he got stoned, but ever since Mr. Marsh had opened that stupid farm it'd caused Stan nothing but misery.

"Hey." Stan's voice broke through his thoughts. "Just got a text from my sister. She says _you turds better not die, killing you's gonna be my job_ ," he said. Besides Kyle's mother, Shelley was the closest thing they had to an ally right now. She didn't send care packages, but she kept Stan updated on how their dad was screwing things up worse and worse and justifying Kyle's decision to get him the hell out of there.

"Tell her Merry Christmas from us, too."

"Will do."

The train station sat just ahead of them, all fancied up for Christmas. Like every other train station they'd passed during their travels, complete with a tree. The only thing different was that this one was big enough that people could spend a night there and the staff wouldn't bat an eyelash. According to some people they even had extra food on hand, like they got people on the border of Colorado and Wyoming stopping in for a night all the time.

Christmas in a train station was hardly a magical adventure, but it was somewhere warm and cozy and that was enough.

(Once upon a time, Kyle had denounced Stan for his cynicism at just ten years old. Now he understood.)

"Tired, Kyle," Ike muttered beside him. Sparky let out a bark of agreement beside Stan; the dog wasn't exactly getting on in years but he was middle-aged and even a dog as well taken care of as him couldn't keep walking forever.

"We're almost there," Stan said, checking his phone's GPS. "Just in time, too, I gotta recharge."

They made it to the station in less than ten minutes, without much fuss. Stan took Sparky around the back to pee, Kyle took Ike and their stuff and set up a spot for them on the benches. Other than two teenagers on the other side of the station they'd be the only ones there.

There was a minifridge set up in a corner, he noticed. When Stan came back in, Kyle opened it and took out three fried chicken TV dinners.

"These okay?" Stan nodded.

"Very okay. I've been in the mood for KFC but since we're not gonna be passing one anytime soon, that's perfect," he said.

"Yes, very okay," Ike repeated. "I miss mom's cooking." Kyle smiled sadly.

"Me too, Ike. Maybe Mom put some in a care package, though," he said. "I told her we'd be sticking around here a few days cause of the snow coming, plus Christmas and all."

"Did you tell her to send cookies?" Ike asked. One thing all holidays had in common were butter cookies, which Mom couldn't bake but still bought tins of to give relatives and other people she didn't know how to shop for.

"I did, and she probably will even if I didn't," Kyle said. Stan opened the TV dinners and stuck them in the nearby jumbo-sized microwave according to the directions, then took out a pouch of dry dog food for Sparky.

"Sorry, boy, no wet food indoors," he said. "Don't want a repeat of the last station." Kyle tried not to snicker; the smell had been _awful_ without any proper ventilation, but the entitled whining of those twentysomethings nearby had been entertaining at least. _Like they've never seen people feeding a dog before._ Luckily, Sparky understood, as long as it was edible he was fine.

"Good boy," Kyle said. "At least he's used to this sort of thing so he doesn't bark his head off."

"Once he realized this meant we didn't have to go back to Tegridy he was fine with it," Stan laughed. "No more peeing all over the house."

"Too bad. The place smelled better when he did," Ike said. Kyle grinned, ruffling his hair.

"That's my brother!" The microwave went off just then, and once the food had a moment to cool off Kyle passed the little plastic trays around. His eye caught Stan's and they shared a nostalgic glance; Chef's thing had been sailsbury steak and fish sticks, but the potatoes and vegetable medley and chocolate cake were him all over.

Sometimes he wished Chef were still here, wondering if South Park wouldn't have become so unforgivably stupid with him around to beat some sense into them. But like Father Maxi hadn't been able to singlehandledly reform the church's corruption even after killing those bastard priests, maybe Chef's common sense wouldn't have been enough.

_Still, we all miss you._

They ate in silence, looking at the small Christmas tree with the donation boxes under it. Maybe Santa would come here and leave them a few things. Or maybe Mom's care package would arrive just in time for Christmas.

"Hey, Ky? I know it's a little late, but..." Stan pulled something out of his pack, a plastic menorah. "Sorry it's so crappy, I got it at one of the gift shops. The wooden ones were like a hundred bucks." But Kyle didn't care that it was a tacky neon-blue plastic thing with battery-operated candles, because it was from Stan. Stan, who'd taken a while to understand the ins and outs of Jewish holidays but still made the effort. Defended him from Cartman's antisemitic bullshit. Kept playing with the dreidel even though it fell over nine times out of ten.

Ike's eyes lit up and Kyle smiled, putting his fork down and moving a little closer to his friend.

"Thanks, Stan."

"Hey, you and Ike left your family and everything else behind just for me and Sparky," Stan murmured. "I should be thanking you. I mean, even more."

Kyle put a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"You're worth it."

Bing Crosby's voice soon began to fill the station, the lights on the tree sparkled, and the quartet of travelers enjoyed this moment of peace and togetherness.


End file.
